


Yellow and Affections

by ShyChangling



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Aromantic, Aspec Charles Palomo, Hanahaki Disease, Nonbinary Palomo, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 04:25:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16695403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyChangling/pseuds/ShyChangling
Summary: Palomo had been feeling ill. He's scared of his emotions and he'd rather not die because of stupid urban myth.





	Yellow and Affections

**Author's Note:**

> As an aromantic I was told I shouldn't enjoy the hanahaki trope so I spite wrote a fic.  
> A what if in terms of hanahaki and aromantics. As if its all meant to be romantic feelings. It was a fun exercise. Plus I'm a sucker for tragedy.

The locker room was empty. As per normal as Palomo usually showers when others have left. He works off his bra, it was feeling much too tight and he can’t shower with it on anyway. His breathing was bad, but Palomo put the blame off to the cigarette smoke Bitters was blowing after training these last few days. 

Palomo’s face darkens thinking of the training. How Bitters had collided into him and that smokey breath filled his lungs three days ago.

How he coughed up red and sent to the medics to make sure he was fine. He was at first they couldn’t find anything wrong other then having bitten into his cheek, but after that it started getting harder to breath.

Palomo stands under the shower head. Yeah, it was harder to get Bitters off his mind since then too. 

He always kind of liked Bitters. He was cold but he was kind of soft if you got past that. 

He kind of wanted so badly to be his friend. But Bitters would often brush off his attempts at friendship. He tried to keep himself an acquaintance. Bitters seemed friends with Jensen and Smith so what was wrong with him?

Palomo starts coughing. He holds his hands over his mouth and feels blood splatter against it. There was something else with it. Palomo nervously takes his hands away the blood running down arms in the shower. 

Petals flow off his hand. Palomo’s eyes widened, terrified. He had heard of this, but it was an urban fable. Not to mention that but Palomo is aromantic. It's impossible for him to have this condition. Or at least it should be.

He puts his hands on the shower wall coughing again. He gags heaving out. His knees give out and he slides to the floor kneeling and gagging. Eventually it all comes up. Blood, petals and full flowers. Gladiolus, yellow roses, Palomo covers his mouth feeling the blood on his lips. He gathers up the flowers and tears them apart. He doesn’t care what they mean, he wants it gone and pretend he does not have this condition.

Was this cause he can’t get Bitters off his mind? Did this trigger flowers to grow in his lungs. How long does he have? Does he tell someone?

No he decides to be silent. No one needs to know or worry. It should pass. He’s not in love so it has to pass. He can’t die over feelings he technically can’t have.

\--

The next morning at training Palomo felt sick to his stomach. He tried to avoid Bitters in case that caused the symptoms to be worse. He fidgets with his gun to his side as he walks thinking deeply on how to go about this mess. 

He is glad he’s in a helmet. No one can see the worry and woe on his face as he tries to figure out his predicament. 

Jensen wonders over to him as he lags behind. “Charlie. You’re slower than Bitters. Don’t tell me you’re sick again.” She has a tease to her voice.

“No. Well not that sick!” Does he confide in her? No, she’ll think its a joke or brush it off as Palomo just being weird again. 

“You know you can talk to me.” She’s jogging in place. Ready for him to keep moving and she’ll be by him the whole way.

Smith eventually stops on the second round. “We need to keep moving or Washington will make us do even more laps.”

“I think Palomo’s sick.”

“I’m not!” But then he starts coughing as Bitters makes his slow pace over. They’re out of Washington’s current sight so not likely to be yelled at at least. 

Bitters stops next to Smith. He looks at the taller lieutenant for an update on what’s happening.

“I’m just. Distracted.”

“Ass distracted or-”

“I said I was sorry about that!” Palomo whines. She’ll never let him live it down. He starts coughing.

Jensen laughs and then stops as she hears his cough and gagging.

“Hey, Palomo you okay?” Bitters walks over to him and Palomo starts to hack up more petals that no one can see.

It's one loud spit of a cough and bloody petals splatter his the inside of his helmet. 

Smith pushes back Bitters and quickly removes Palomo’s helmet. “Hey! Charlie, what’s wrong.” He stops dead in his words seeing that startled face mixed with blood and petal stuck on his lips.

Jensen steps back. Bitters keeps his reaction internal. So much for keeping it a secret.

They’re all silent but before any one can speak Palomo bolts. He doesn’t care that he’s without his helmet. He can’t stand to feel those pitiful stares. It's not like they’ll understand. The urban myth isn’t that well known and it was, at least before now, a myth. He wipes the blood off his lips with his glove. He trips and skids along the ground. 

The other lieutenants are close behind. He slams a fist to the ground hoping for a better exit but no. He had to screw up his escape too. 

\--

Palomo sits in med bay. A bored look on his face. He’d rather go right back to his bunker and hide. Smith stayed in the room with him. He had taken basic medical care and often loaned himself to the medics before he went up a rank.

“They say you have lungs full of… something,” Smith says quietly.

“Flowers.” Palomo replies bluntly. “Like that old Chorus myth.”

“I thought it originated on Earth. I did a quick look on the internet.”

“I really don’t care, John. I am not supposed to have this! I don’t have the ability to have it!” Palomo looks on the brink of tears.

“Has anything changed recently? How long have you had this?” Smith is working a way to figure out how to help the younger lieutenant. Suzy was at a loss for what to do. Anything that popped up lead to the idea that Palomo would die and no one was trained for the type of surgical measures needed to remove the aliment. “Who .. is it?” Smith wondered if that was too personal.

Palomo isn’t sure how to answer that. Admitting who it is means admitting to this disease, that something had changed. And admitting that he must lose that feeling if he’s to get better. He doesn’t want to stop think of Bitters as a good friend. That admiration. “Can I go back to my bunker yet?” Palomo says softly ignoring all the questions.

Smith gently grabs a shoulder. “Look. We can maybe find a way to fix this. Don’t lose hope.”

“It's been half a week, Smith. I can’t breath and I can’t focus. I’m scared of these feelings!”

“That seems normal. Other than the lungs full of plant life.” Smith takes his hand away. “You can trust me, Charles. I won’t blab on who it is.”

“I think it’s Bitters,” Palomo finally admits after a silent minute. “I just wanted to be his friend. I don’t understand how I ended up cursed for it.”

“Well the good news is if Bitters starts feeling something for you the condition might leave.” Smith points out. 

“If I tell him now then any feelings he has for me is just pity dressed up in a romantic dress.”

\--

It started to get difficult to eat. Palomo could barely stomach food. He’d eat half a meal and then start hacking petals. Bitters started to hang around him more. Palomo hated it. He’s certain Smith did tell him. He’s worried Jensen was told too. But Palomo couldn’t bring himself to be that angry. He felt more apathetic and tired.

At least when he felt like that the flowers would stop coiling in his lungs giving him a moment to breathe clearly. He wonders if he’ll die soon. He can’t force Bitters to like him, Bitters is clearly having a difficult time being near him. 

\--

“What kind of flowers are you vomiting?” Bitters asks on another morning.

Palomo isn’t sure what the point of that question was. “Some pink long flower and yellow roses? Why?”

“It might have something to do with how to fix this situation.” Bitters sits silently and he takes a drag of an old relit cigarette.

“I don’t understand.” 

“Language of flowers. Something like that. They might mean something more than well, you having some kind of fucked up crush thing going on.”

Palomo sinks in his seat. “Did Smith tell you anything?”

“No, but I used to want to be a painter as a kid. Might not make sense but I thought knowing the symbolism of flowers was important to my art.”

“That kind of makes sense actually.” Palomo shifts slightly. “And I knew about the artist thing. You just seemed the type.”

Bitters laughs abit. “What the fuck about me screams artist?”

“I don’t know, intuition I think,” Palomo says with a shrug.

“Man you really are sick aren’t you.” Bitters has a worried tone to his voice.

Palomo looks up. Now he starts to feel abit angry. “You don’t have to pretend to be worried. I know you don’t like me like you like Jensen and Smith.”

Bitters shrugs and takes out a cigarette. “I’m not pretending. I’ve watched so many people die to this war. I just never seen one slowly crumble because some stupid crush flower is stealing your air.”

“So Smith told you? He wasn’t supposed to tell!”

Bitters pauses and looks at him. “What. No, I looked it up. That Donut guy also knows quite a bit about this thing.” He takes another pause. “Am.. I the reason you have this?”

Palomo wants to cry but for once he holds it back. “I don’t know. I shouldn’t have this in the first place.” He starts hacking. 

There’s a hand now on his shoulder. “Hey, calm down! Its okay, I won’t pry. Fucking christ, Palomo.”

The hacking stops after a yellow rose gets caught in his mouth. He spits it out and wells up. “I hate this. I was happy how I was before.”

“Romantic things scare you?”

“I like the idea of it. But I’ve never felt it.” Palomo looks to the ground that yellow rose with bloody petals. “Everyone always told me I’d find someone. I guess I did and its going to kill me.”

Bitters is silent. “I, don’t know how to fix that.”

“You really shouldn’t have to. This is my own issue, and I think I’d rather die before finding out what this means.”

“Hey don’t talk like that!” Bitters kneels down putting his cigarette in his mouth. He picks up the flower.

“Don’t touch that, its gross.”

“Relax, idiot. This is why you take time to figure shit out. Did you even think to look up the flowers you threw up?”

“No, I wanted to ignore it.”

“Yellow roses are a symbol of friendship, platonic bonds. There’s nothing romantic to it.”

Palomo looks over to Bitters. “Some people even see them as a symbol of aromantic love. What ever that may mean.”

It should be relief to hear that. But there is still a deep worry in Palomo’s throat.

“But now, if you befriend me. It’s not because of me. Its because I’m ill.”

**Author's Note:**

> Gladiolus means infatuation  
> Yellow Roses is friendship.   
> I purposely left out the Gladiolus in the end because I'll leave what that means combined with the yellow rose to the reader.  
> I have my own ideas that might be obvious but hey it was fun to write.


End file.
